


you're the truest thing in this town (and i want you now)

by bechloehuh



Series: a gathering on 57th [1]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Beca's POV, F/F, Fluff, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bechloehuh/pseuds/bechloehuh
Summary: Falling in love with Chloe happens much quicker than Beca would have ever anticipated.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Series: a gathering on 57th [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655275
Comments: 48
Kudos: 179





	you're the truest thing in this town (and i want you now)

**Author's Note:**

> for the past few months i’ve been silently working on this, mostly for myself. i’ve basically created an entire universe that’s gonna be told out of order but will hopefully be easy to follow along with. it’s based on the paper kites’ 2 most recent albums — 'on the train ride home' and 'on the corner where you live'. it’s a series that means a lot to me so i hope you enjoy it.

_“shadows from the streetlight shades / watching every word you say / never seen you look that way / and i want you now / mmm, nothing more than that / dropped the needle, closed your eyes / listened like you'd almost died / all your love in an old record pile / and i want you now / spinning like a turning wheel / looking like the way i feel / you can keep all that you steal / ‘cause I want you now / mmm / nothing more than that.”_  
\- nothing more than that, the paper kites

* * *

She tells herself, as she adjusts her shirt in the mirror for the hundredth time, that this is _not_ a date.

Chloe’s _actual_ date bailed on her and she’s coming over with wine and takeout. That’s all that this is.

Really, Beca’s not even sure why she’s dressed in anything other than sweatpants and a hoodie. She’s known Chloe for almost a year now, since meeting her at the bar below her apartment. And though she hasn’t had much experience with friends in her adult years, she’s confident in saying that Chloe is her best friend, so she definitely won’t judge her for not dressing nice.

(Should she be relieved that her best friend’s date bailed on her? Probably not, but she’ll keep that entirely to herself.)

But of course, when Chloe shows up at her apartment still dressed for her date—in a red dress with her hair in soft curls—Beca’s glad that she chose not to wear sweatpants. There’s no way that she can sit there looking like a slob when Chloe looks like _that._

And maybe her breath hitches when she locks eyes with Chloe over the threshold, but she quickly covers it up with a cough and opens the door further to let Chloe in, telling her that she’ll get the bottle opener as she shuts the door behind her.

Chloe, rather than throwing herself onto the couch like she usually does, picks up a cushion and throws it on the floor before sitting down on it, not saying a word as she starts to pull out all of the Chinese takeout boxes from the bag she brought in with her.

“You good, dude?” Beca asks from the kitchen as she watches her for a moment, retrieving two glasses from the cupboard and a bottle opener from the drawer.

“Men _suck.”_

Beca laughs at that, the tension falling from her shoulders as she makes her way towards the coffee table that Chloe has turned into their dining table for the night.

“Why are we sitting on the floor?” She asks, placing the two glasses on the table before sitting cross-legged beside Chloe.

“Because couches suck.”

“Wow,” Beca whistles. _“Men_ suck, _couches_ suck… what else sucks today?”

“Everything.” Chloe sighs, picking up her chopsticks and stabbing into an egg roll. Beca watches as she fits the entire roll in her mouth, biting down on it and sending pieces of food flying everywhere, seemingly without a care in the world.

She resists the urge to laugh at how dramatic Chloe is being, instead choosing to open the bottle of red wine that Chloe brought with her, and pours them both a drink.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Her voice is muffled due to her mouth being full, and Beca watches with an amused smile as Chloe stabs her chopsticks into a piece of beef.

“I’m not an expert but I think you’re using those wrong.”

Chloe looks at her then, frowning, and Beca’s face softens.

“Don’t,” Chloe shakes her head, swallowing her food. “I don’t want your pity face.”

“I was gonna tell you that you have food on your cheek, but okay.”

It’s easy for Beca to ignore the way her heart races whenever Chloe looks at her. She’s had practise with that for a while now. What’s hard, is knowing what to say without telling Chloe _everything._ That simply, Chloe had Beca’s heart right from the beginning, and she shouldn’t be upset over somebody who doesn’t think that Chloe deserves the entire world.

The moment she met Chloe, Beca knew that there would always be something special about her. There’s something there; something that Beca’s never really been able to describe. It’s a sort of fondness that she hasn’t ever felt for anybody else. Not her ex-girlfriend, not any of her coworkers, nor the countless dates she’s been on to, truthfully, try and get over the feelings she’s been having for her best friend.

It’s been there, the desperate fondness, deep in the small crevices of her heart that are reserved for only Chloe Beale, and it hasn’t shifted since the day she met her.

It seems to only grow stronger with each second she looks at Chloe. Chloe who is pouting, with bits of egg roll on her face, over some guy that, last week, she told Beca that she wasn’t even excited to be going on a date with.

And although Beca’s glad that Chloe didn’t actually end up going on a date with him, she’s not a monster, and she’s going to put her feelings aside to make Chloe feel better about it, because that’s what best friends do. So she reaches up and swipes the food from Chloe’s face, throwing it into the empty bag on the table.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” she says simply, breaking her own egg roll in half and handing one half to Chloe. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on. I mean, look at this.” She moves her finger in a circle in front of Chloe’s face, smiling when Chloe laughs and pushes her hand away.

“I guess...” Chloe sighs, and Beca tries not to notice how Chloe’s hand lingers on hers for a moment before she pulls away and starts to pick the egg roll apart in her hands. “I think I’m just tired of being alone, you know?”

“You’re not—”

“—Not like that,” Chloe interrupts. “I just want somebody to… look forward to seeing me. To _want_ me, you know? Someone to come home to, I guess. It’s stupid, but it’s like…” She sighs. “Well, it’s like I have all this love saved up inside of me and I have nowhere to put it. Nobody to give it to.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m always scared that I’m running out of time to find my person. Do you ever feel like that?”

Beca pauses, wondering if now is a good time to tell Chloe that _yes,_ although she feels like she’s already found her person, she _does_ feel like she’s running out of time.

Ultimately, she can only nod, refusing to look at Chloe and choosing to keep her words to herself as she starts to eat her food.

* * *

She meets Chloe at the bar under her one bedroom studio apartment.

Of course, Beca lives and breathes music, so when she hears her voice; that voice that wraps tightly around her and drags her downstairs and into the crowd of people watching her on stage, Beca doesn’t even try to hide how excited she is. How happy it makes her feel that she’s found the voice that’s been missing from the countless number of songs she’s produced in the past two weeks.

Chloe’s there on stage, on karaoke night—which Beca usually hates—singing the one Adele song that doesn’t make Beca want to puke with how heartbreaking and emotional it is.

 _“If you're gonna let me down, let me down gently,”_ Chloe sings effortlessly, _“don't pretend that you don't want me. Our love ain't water under the bridge.”_

And her smile is enchanting, with the cheap bar spotlights shining on her; eyes glistening and head bobbing to the beat.

It’s the first time Beca feels like she’s truly mesmerized by something; like there’s nothing at all that can tear her eyes away from the woman on stage. Like the world could crumble around her and she’ll still be there watching her, unable to even blink in fear that she’ll miss it.

The crowd is almost deafening when she finishes the song, and Beca watches her practically bounce down the two steps and towards one of the bartenders—Jesse, Beca thinks his name is—to hand the mic back to him.

“And that was Chloe Beale with Water Under The Bridge. One more time for Chloe Beale, everybody!”

Beca zones out when he reads out who’s going to be singing next as she makes her way towards the bar, where Chloe takes a seat in between two women, who both don’t seem to bat an eye in Chloe’s direction.

“Excuse me,” Beca says, standing beside Chloe. The next performer starts to sing, and although they have nothing on this woman— _Chloe,_ Beca repeats in her head—they’re not as bad as some of the other people she’s had the misfortune of listening to over the past few months.

But Beca can’t focus on their voice, at least not in the same way she was so drawn to Chloe’s, and she’s surprised to feel her heart start to race and her breath hitch the second Chloe turns to look at her.

“Hi!” Chloe greets, and the way she says it makes Beca wonder if they’ve already met before. There’s a familiarity there that Beca feels only with her friends, and some family members that she hasn’t seen in a while.

“Sorry,” she responds. _What the hell am I doing?_ “You were so awesome up there.”

 _“Oh,_ thank you.” 

And if Beca thought her voice was beautiful, it’s nothing compared to how beautiful Chloe is up close.

“I’m Beca,” she says, holding her hand out, which Chloe takes immediately. “I just wanted to let you know,” she pulls her hand back when Chloe lets go, “you have a really nice voice.” She shakes her head, “That’s so weird, I’m sorry—”

“—No,” Chloe interrupts with a soft laugh. “That’s so sweet of you to say. Do you sing?”

“Uh, I…” She glances over to the man on stage currently hitting a very impressive high note. “Yeah, sometimes.”

“We should duet!”

“What?” She quickly looks at Chloe, her eyes wide. “No.”

“Come on!”

And Beca’s not sure why, but when Chloe turns in her seat and stands up, much closer than Beca had expected, and grabs her arm to pull her towards the stage where the sign-up sheet is, Beca can’t find a good enough reason _not_ to sing a duet with this woman.

* * *

Falling in love with Chloe happens much quicker than Beca would have ever anticipated.

Beca’s not one for metaphors, but if she were to describe it, she’d probably say something about a cliff. Standing on the edge of a precipice and struggling to move anywhere, with a rope tied around her. If she were to describe it, she’d say something about hanging on by a thread as she desperately attempts to untie herself, but eventually succumbing to the fact that she’s inevitably going to fall.

It’s the suddenness of it, the last bit of rope left quickly snapping and sending her plummeting head first down the cliff-side, that surprises her the most.

And really, it’s nothing spectacular or groundbreaking that Chloe does that makes Beca fall for her. She simply just has to _be,_ and there’s nothing stopping Beca’s heart from tethering to Chloe’s. There’s nothing about Chloe that _isn’t_ completely and wholesomely lovable, and Beca has learned that there’s nothing she can do to try and convince herself otherwise.

The more time that passes, the more that little part of her that Chloe owns cracks and threatens to shatter into a million pieces, the same way the rope threatened to break and send Beca hurtling down the cliff and into the deep love that she feels for Chloe whenever she so much as looks at her.

* * *

Ultimately, it all starts with the rain.

Chloe mentions offhandedly that she loves the sound of the heavy rain on her apartment window. She loves to sit by the window and read, or listen to music on her record player — “because listening on anything other than a record player doesn’t have the same effect,” she tells Beca when she asks why, and Beca doesn’t question it further.

Beca’s surprised that she finds herself thinking about Chloe when it starts to rain a few weeks later. She’s in the middle of heating up some leftovers when it starts, and she finds herself watching as it gets heavier, making her way over to the window to look out into the busy street below.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket, and she instinctively smiles when she sees Chloe’s name in the notification bar.

 **Chloe:** It’s raining! Taylor Swift or Harry Styles?

 **Beca:** Can I choose neither?

 **Chloe:** Rude.  
**Chloe:** What should I listen to then, Ms. Music Expert?

Beca grins.

 **Beca:** What do you have?

* * *

Beca has hated bad weather her entire life.

Naturally, she doesn’t know what the hell is happening to her when she starts to look forward to hearing the tapping of the rain against her apartment window.

* * *

December starts to approach, and the rain only gets more frequent. It leads to more texts from Chloe asking what she should listen to, or telling Beca to choose which book she should read. Hemingway or Camus, Edgar Allen Poe or Jane Austin. 

They even go on small shopping trips to bookstores and record stores; Chloe making Beca buy a book with a promise to actually read it, and Beca helping Chloe pick out some records that aren’t by Taylor Swift, One Direction, or Adele.

Sleepovers become a regular occurrence, and Beca had forgotten what it was like to be close to somebody and actually enjoy their company. She’s been on her own for a while now, but getting used to Chloe being over at her place most of the time is surprisingly very easy.

* * *

It’s one particular evening that Beca realizes that she can no longer hold her feelings for Chloe in.

Chloe shows up at her apartment unannounced, wet from the rain, with a bag of books and records. When Beca awkwardly asks her what she’s doing as Chloe invites herself in, Chloe stays quiet.

Beca, of course not knowing what to do, can only watch as Chloe walks across her small living room towards the old bar cart that her record player sits on top of. 

(And maybe she’s been buying and listening to more records because of Chloe, but she’ll deny it if anyone asks.)

She watches Chloe pull out the records from her bag, placing the small pile of about eight of them on the floor beside her. She flicks through them, and as Beca slowly makes her way towards her, ready to ask if she wants a drink or anything, Chloe turns to her and smiles.

“Come here,” Chloe says, holding her hand out, while her other hand pulls out one of the records.

Beca willingly takes Chloe’s hand and lets her pull her closer until they’re standing beside each other next to the window.

“I love this,” Chloe tells her. Her voice is so soft and quiet, so full of adoration for the record in her hand, that Beca doesn’t dare say anything. She almost forgets that Chloe is even talking about a record. With the way her breath sounds when she says it, it’s as if she’s talking about something else in the room.

Chloe places the record on the player, drops the needle, and waits.

Beca holds her breath as she watches the disc spin, finally letting out a soft sigh when the music starts.

Chloe’s hand, still in hers, squeezes slightly. Her eyes flutter closed as her head moves slowly from side to side to the beat of the song.

 **_Still as the night,_ ** **_  
_ ** **_The kind of love that's black and white._ ** **_  
_ ** **_Discolors the skies,_ ** **_  
_ ** **_And hearts begin to shine._ ** **_  
_ ** **_So clear both your eyes,_ ** **_  
_ ** **_‘Cause love don't compromise._ **

Beca’s never heard the song before, but she can’t bring it in herself to ask Chloe what it is; to interrupt her. Not when she looks so serene, like she’s hearing the song for the very first time. Beca knows she’s not, because her mouth is parting slightly with unsung words that she seems to know all of, and Beca finds that she can’t take her eyes off of her.

The sun had set an hour ago, so the street lights outside are shining into her apartment window, illuminating Chloe’s face in a soft, warm glow that makes Beca’s heart clench and her stomach hurt. It reminds her of the spotlights shining on Chloe the first day she ever met her; the way she was rooted to the ground and unable to tear her eyes away, like she is right now.

 **_‘Cause love comes in black and white,_ ** **_  
_ ** **_So love me like you’re colorblind._ ** ****  
**_Just give me your heart and your mind,_ ** **_  
_ ** ******_And show me your love don't resign._**

Chloe’s head turns towards Beca slowly as she opens her eyes. Her smile grows slightly when their eyes meet, and it’s in the way she nervously bites her lip as she asks Beca what she thinks of the song, that makes Beca laugh.

“What?” Chloe asks, tugging on Beca’s hand. It pulls Beca that tiny bit closer, makes her suck in a quick, scared breath as Chloe waits for her answer.

The pain in her stomach only intensifies when Chloe turns the music down, and she’s very aware of how fast her heart is pounding.

“I like it,” she says, nodding.

Chloe’s smile grows, causing her eyes to crinkle in the corners.

Beca’s breath hitches.

“I knew—”

The song, transitioning into the second chorus, acts as background music as Beca steps forward and cups Chloe’s face, bringing her closer and pressing her lips firmly against Chloe’s. 

It reminds her of the movie she and Chloe watched last week; the only thing missing are the fireworks in the background. Though, if Beca’s completely honest—and she kind of despises herself for being so cheesy—she’s pretty sure that the fireworks are exploding in her stomach instead of in the sky right now. Even though it's far from her first kiss, she's never felt this way kissing anybody else.

Chloe’s lips are everything Beca imagined they’d be — soft, kind, so attentive and warm. It takes everything Beca has in her not to pull her closer, kiss her harder.

As much as she’d love to keep kissing her, to never part ways ever again, the kiss is starting to feel messy due to the tears that she hadn’t even noticed she’d shed.

She pulls back slowly, apologetically, regretfully, and opens her eyes.

She’s not sure why “sorry” seems to be the first thing that comes out of her mouth. Judging by Chloe’s face, the small smile and the shine in her eyes, she’s definitely okay with what just happened.

“Don’t apologize.”

Her shoulders drop with relief, a shaky breath exhaling past her lips, and Chloe’s smile only gets bigger as she reaches up to wipe the moisture from Beca’s face.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Beca breathes out, her eyes closing in contentment at the feeling of Chloe’s warm hands cupping her face.

“Yeah?”

She laughs, soft and nervous.

“Yeah. I,” she sucks in a breath, shaking her head to try and rid herself from the anxiety she’s feeling right now. Her eyes open and meet Chloe’s immediately. “I like you a lot, Chloe.”

“I know.”

And Beca wants to ask why Chloe never mentioned anything, but before she can say another word, Chloe is pulling her in and they’re kissing again, and she feels dizzy, like the record currently still spinning beside them. Her cheeks, wet with tears, like the rain against the window. It all adds up to make this moment, standing in her living room, in the city she’s fallen so in love with, with the woman that she feels like she’s loved her entire life.

**Author's Note:**

> the song chloe plays for beca is black and white by will trotman band. they're a very small band but i highly recommend them.  
> anyway, thank you for reading! if you enjoy my writing, please follow me on [tumblr](http://bechloehuh.tumblr.com/)


End file.
